Anarchy and survival in the shanty settlement of El Tarajal in Ceuta

If The Lord of the Flies came to life, it would do so in the shanty settlement next to the Tarajal ships. A few meters from the Ceuta beach that was attacked by 80,000 people, several dozen kids are roaming around the camp that they themselves have set up on a triangular surface of just over 1,000 square meters.

At noon many are still dozing. Others spend hours sitting on broken furniture that "came from the street" and, as a general rule, the shirt is optional. A kind of adolescent anarchy reigns in which loaves of bread dipped in spicy soup are eaten for breakfast. On the table - made up of an upturned drawer and a green Mercadona box - where Mohammed (25) and his tribe sit, a whim: a jar of Nutella. "We eat how we want," he boasts.

But it's not true. Going a little further into the camp we reach the adult area. There, crouched between two charred car doors, is Mohami Amin (51 years old), who manages the improvised bonfire between the asphalt and the metal of a grill to cook breakfast. On one hand, cook some scrambled eggs in a medium skillet. On the other hand, boil water in a large saucepan in which at least a dozen eggs float; They deposit the ones they have made inside a paint bucket. On the asphalt, a teapot. And that is the menu: "One day, one meal," the man explains to us. Adam, their middle son, invites us for a sip of tea.

"He swam in with his brother on the 31st," explains his father in tacky Spanish. They have been installed here for "a few days", although he does not keep track. "Some days you sleep somewhere else, nothing happens." He is one of the few who master the language, the most accessible, if that, is English. His child, who understands something, confesses his age ahead of time: "Diesinove", 19, although the father assures that he is 17 and a minor. He then admits that it will be better for him to say that he is younger.

The vast majority of the kids in the settlement come from Tangier - like Mohami and his son - and are between 14 and 26 years old, although exceptionally there are some slightly older males. Of the minors, who are many, none want to go to a shelter: "Not that, we want freedom!" they cry, crossing their forearms high to symbolize their will.

There are quite a few boys who, like them, hide in the barracks or countryside areas of the Ceuta hills to avoid being intercepted. This Monday, the Minister of Youth and Children, Sira Rego, estimated at 1,200 those who could be pending affiliation. However, he stressed that this is an "estimate" given that it is a complex calculation.

Adam, however, does not separate from his father, who tries not to deal too much with the other boys because they kicked out his firstborn: "There were fights, but he is a smart boy, he will be fine outside." He senses that he sleeps on one of the beaches, possibly the one they entered through, but there is no way to know. They haven't seen each other for days, although Midi - that's her name - sends him a message that "everything is fine."

Two of the kids who sleep in the camp admit that they were repatriated from Germany for committing a theft or trafficking "some drugs." Amin, for his part, wants to teach his children "a better life." The third, Terco, is 15 and is still in Morocco with his mother, who works cleaning houses. Although he knows that achieving his goal "is very difficult," he will look for "work in the field or something." And as a cook? Smile at the proposal. He likes it, but "it's no good for living."